bare feet and chamomile sap.

took off my shoes; took off my hat.

bare feet and chamomile sap,gimme back my shoes; gimme back my hat.

lay my head on a potato sack,devil sneak up behind my back.

steam engine got a lonesome whine;love that woman till you go stone blind.

stone blind; stone blind.

sweet home gal make you lose your mind.

his coming is the reverse route of his going. first the cold house,the storeroom, then thekitchen before he tackles the beds. here boy, feeble and shedding his coat in patches, is asleep bythe pump, so paul d knows beloved is truly gone. disappeared, some say, exploded right before their eyes. ella is not so sure. "maybe," she says, "maybe not. could be hiding in the trees waitingfor another chance." but when paul d sees the ancient dog, eighteen years if a day, he is certain124 is clear of her. but he opens the door to the cold house halfway expecting to hear her. "touchme. touch me. on the inside part and call me my name."there is the pallet spread with old newspapers gnawed at the edges by mice. the lard can. thepotato sacks too, but empty now, they lie on the dirt floor in heaps. in daylight he can't imagine itin darkness with moonlight seeping through the cracks. nor the desire that drowned him there andforced him to struggle up, up into that girl like she was the clear air at the top of the sea. couplingwith her wasn't even fun. it was more like a brainless urge to stay alive.

each time she came, pulled up her skirts, a life hunger overwhelmed him and he had no morecontrol over it than over his lungs. and afterward, beached and gobbling air, in the midst ofrepulsion and personal shame, he was thankful too for having been escorted to some ocean-deepplace he once belonged to.

sifting daylight dissolves the memory, turns it into dust motes floating in light. paul d shuts thedoor. he looks toward the house and, surprisingly, it does not look back at him. unloaded, 124 isjust another weathered house needing repair. quiet, just as stamp paid said.

"used to be voices all round that place. quiet, now," stamp said.

"i been past it a few times and i can't hear a thing. chastened, i reckon, 'cause mr. bodwin say heselling it soon's he can.""that the name of the one she tried to stab? that one?""yep. his sister say it's full of trouble. told janey she was going to get rid of it.""and him?" asked paul d.

"janey say he against it but won't stop it.""who they think want a house out there? anybody got the money don't want to live out there.""beats me," stamp answered. "it'll be a spell, i guess, before it get took off his hands.""he don't plan on taking her to the law?""don't seem like it. janey say all he wants to know is who was the naked blackwoman standing onthe porch. he was looking at her so hard he didn't notice what sethe was up to. all he saw wassome coloredwomen fighting. he thought sethe was after one of them, janey say.""janey tell him any different?""no. she say she so glad her boss ain't dead. if ella hadn't clipped her, she say she would have.

scared her to death have that woman kill her boss. she and denver be looking for a job.""who janey tell him the naked woman was?""told him she didn't see none.""you believe they saw it?""well, they saw something. i trust ella anyway, and she say she looked it in the eye. it wasstanding right next to sethe. but from the way they describe it, don't seem like it was the girl i sawin there.

the girl i saw was narrow. this one was big. she say they was holding hands and sethe lookedlike a little girl beside it.""little girl with a ice pick. how close she get to him?""right up on him, they say. before denver and them grabbed her and ella put her fist in her jaw.""he got to know sethe was after him. he got to.""maybe. i don't know. if he did think it, i reckon he decided not to. that be just like him, too. he'ssomebody never turned us down.

steady as a rock. i tell you something, if she had got to him, it'd be the worst thing in the world forus. you know, don't you, he's the main one kept sethe from the gallows in the first place.""yeah. damn. that woman is crazy. crazy.""yeah, well, ain't we all?"they laughed then. a rusty chuckle at first and then more, louder and louder until stamp took outhis pocket handkerchief and wiped his eyes while paul d pressed the heel of his hand in his own.

as the neither one had witnessed took shape before them, its seriousness and itsembarrassment (scene) made them shake with laughter.

"every time a whiteman come to the door she got to kill somebody?""for all she know, the man could be coming for the rent.""good thing they don't deliver mail out that way.""wouldn't nobody get no letter.""except the postman.""be a mighty hard message.""and his last."when their laughter was spent, they took deep breaths and shook their heads.

"and he still going to let denver spend the night in his house?

ha!""aw no. hey. lay off denver, paul d. that's my heart. i'm proud of that girl. she was the first onewrestle her mother down. before anybody knew what the devil was going on.""she saved his life then, you could say.""you could. you could," said stamp, thinking suddenly of the leap, the wide swing and snatch ofhis arm as he rescued the little curly-headed baby from within inches of a split skull. "i'm proud ofher. she turning out fine. fine."it was true. paul d saw her the next morning when he was on his way to work and she was leavinghers. thinner, steady in the eyes, she looked more like halle than ever.

she was the first to smile. "good morning, mr. d.""well, it is now." her smile, no longer the sneer he remembered, had welcome in it and strongtraces of sethe's mouth. paul d touchedhis cap. "how you getting along?""don't pay to complain.""you on your way home?"she said no. she had heard about an afternoon job at the shirt factory. she hoped that with hernight work at the bodwins' and another one, she could put away something and help her mothertoo.

when he asked her if they treated her all right over there, she said more than all right. missbodwin taught her stuff. he asked her what stuff and she laughed and said book stuff. "she says imight go to oberlin. she's experimenting on me." and he didn't say, "watch out. watch out.

nothing in the world more dangerous than a white schoolteacher." instead he nodded and asked the question he wanted to.

"your mother all right?""no," said denver. "no. no, not a bit all right.""you think i should stop by? would she welcome it?""i don't know," said denver. "i think i've lost my mother, paul d."they were both silent for a moment and then he said, "uh, that girl. you know. beloved?""yes?""you think she sure 'nough your sister?"denver looked at her shoes. "at times. at times i think she was — more." she fiddled with hershirtwaist, rubbing a spot of something.